Meet the Parents
by JinnySkeans
Summary: There are pictures on the walls of a small, loving family and he has the presence of mind to feel unsettled, as though he's intruding on their happiness just by existing. Still, though, her mother fills his teacup with a smile and her father claps him on the back, and they're kind and warm and welcoming. Sakura had to have learned it all somewhere.
1. Chapter 1

The stares aren't new.

He's lived his whole life under a microscope and he's more than used to this by now. As a child, admired and envied and observed for his legendary family, for his potential, for his name; looked upon with pity when that family was taken away, too-bad, so-sad, unwanted sympathetic stares; wistful gazes of giggling girls with too much free time on their hands. Suspicious glances or hateful glares. He's known them all, and lived with them.

Ironically it is a pair of seafoam green eyes that unsettles him.

He is walking through the market, as per usual, as is his custom since the war ended and he was welcomed back into Konoha a hero. The sun is setting and the gathering clouds threaten rain, and Sasuke loses himself to hours and quiet contemplation. Walking relaxes him. He doesn't even carry around his sword anymore, not when he's so relaxed.

And tired, if he's being honest with himself. He'd trained with Sakura earlier that day, showed her some rather complicated fire jutsu and then they'd beaten the crap out of each other. Sakura at 17 is nothing like Sakura at 12.

He never would have punched 12-year-old Sakura in the side like he'd done earlier that morning; now, breaking three of her ribs probably saved his life, the way she'd been coming at him. Sakura, these days, is not only strong as fucking _hell,_ she's even smarter than she used to be and every day is a challenge.

It was _fun._

And then out of nowhere, as he passes by a stand serving dango without so much as a second glance, he sees those eyes. Someone staring, but not in the way that he's used to. Not in admiration or free, in hero-worship or suspicion.

Almost like they're trying to figure him out.

Sasuke frowns. Just because he's used to being stared at doesn't mean it's not annoying. And when he passes by the owner of those frustrating green eyes, he feels them follow. Then footsteps behind him, and the pursuit is on.

He's not in the mood to stop and chat with some random villager. He's had a fun, challenging day and now it's his right to relax on his way back to his flat downtown. Chatting up a villager with a staring problem isn't how he fancies spending his evening, so when he knows he's been followed onto the main street, he stops abruptly and without turning around, mutters, "It's rude to stare."

It is common courtesy, he knows, for the offending party to immediately apologize and hurry away so as not to cause anymore discomfort. But the woman behind him with the prying green eyes neither apologizes nor leaves.

"It's rude to mutter to an elder," she retorts, and the voice is sharp and grating. He feels like he's heard it before, maybe, but can't place it. So with all the aggravation in the world, he turns around.

The woman behind him is very tall and very thin, perhaps too thin. There are premature wrinkles on her face that suggest she's perhaps younger than she looks, but difficult times have aged her considerably. Her hair is blonde and sleek, and she's dressed conservatively, like a housewife. It's her eyes, though, that place her.

"You're Uchiha Sasuke," the woman says, almost needlessly. The enormous fan on the back of his shirt gives him away, and he knows he's not the type to be easily forgotten, especially in a village like Konoha. "You might not remember me. I'm Haruno Mebuki."

_Sakura's mother,_ Sasuke realizes, and then he tries to soften his glare; it is impolite of her to stare, but it's impolite of him to harbor such animosity towards the parent of one of his trusted teammates. Even if _she's_ the one who's in the wrong.

Mebuki smirks, and he knows he's seen that smirk before, on her daughter's face. She puts a hand on her hip – another mannerism of Sakura's – and holds out her shopping bag expectantly.

"Well, come on," she says, as if they'd had a standing engagement elsewhere. "Dinner's in an hour, get this bag. Good heavens, boy, I know your mother raised you to have _some_ manners."

Sasuke stiffens at the mention of his mother. Instantly he is angry, and he prepares to storm away from Mebuki and take out his anger towards her on Sakura the next day at training, but Mebuki continues like she isn't even aware.

"Mikoto-chan would roll over in her grave if she saw her beloved little boy walking along without a care in the world while a lady struggled with her groceries!"

It's the way Mebuki says her name – says Mikoto-chan, like they were friends – that stops him.

"You…knew my mother?" he asks, tentatively, and he doesn't like how his voice comes out. Small, almost hopeful. It's not a projection of what an Uchiha at 17 should sound like, that's for sure.

"'Course I did," Mebuki replies breezily, still holding her bag out, and this time, Sasuke takes it. It's heavier than it looks, and she jerks her head in the direction of her house. Bewildered, he joins her, not sure what else to do but inwardly desperate to hear more about his mother.

"Were you friends?" he asks.

"'Course we were! Geez, boy, I should probably be offended she never thought to mention me to you when you were little…maybe if she'd had a girl like I did, we would have got on better as we got older. Sort of lost touch, in the end, but you couldn't ask for a better friend. Your mother was a hell of a lady, Sasuke-kun."

Mebuki then plunges into a story about how she'd met and befriended Mikoto – at a slumber party thirty years ago. They'd gotten along well, Sasuke learned, and he followed dumbly, not saying a word, drunk on all this new information. He struggled to picture his mother as a young girl, before she was a kunoichi, before she was the matriarch of the most powerful, most self-destructive shinobi clan in the village. Inebriated with the thought of learning more about the most important person in his life, he realized belatedly that he'd followed Mebuki all the way to her house.

"…and when she was pregnant with Itachi-kun?" Mebuki laughs as they reach the front door. "I never thought she had a temper like that, I was so proud of her. She used to scream and rail at your father like you wouldn't believe. All the hormones, you know. I went through the same thing with Sakura, I chucked a butcher knife at her father during a mood swing when I was about five months along. But I've always had a temper, it was Mikoto-chan that kept her cool. _Except_ with Itachi. I learned to steer clear of her, _she_ was the one who never missed a mark chucking knives. Well, what are you doing just standing there, boy, I know damn well she never taught her sons to lurk in doorways. Go on inside and sit down, I'll get started on dinner."

Sasuke really has no choice. Something about Mebuki, the imposing, confident way she carries herself, her no-nonsense tone, or the way she describes Uchiha Mikoto with such _fondness_ has him obeying, toeing off his shinobi sandals carefully as he crosses the threshold still carrying the groceries.

"Is Sakura here?" he asks, realizing that this might be surprising for his teammate, seeing him come in for dinner with his mother like he did this all the time.

"Why would Sakura be here?" Mebuki asks briskly, leading him through the small, well-kept family home and into the den. "She lives across town."

_This,_ Sasuke realizes uncomfortably, is an oversight. He'd been attempting to be a better teammate after his return to Konoha, but somewhere along the way, he must have missed a step. Only a very poor teammate wouldn't know where his teammates lived.

"…I thought she'd live here till she gets married," he murmurs. It was the way it worked in the Uchiha Clan, anyway. Young, unmarried girls lived at home until they found husbands. Still, the admission has him feeling like he's just revealed his naivete.

Mebuki sighs like she pities him for his archaic thinking. "Things aren't like that these days, Sasuke-kun. That's your father's influence, I'm sure. But you know Sakura. She isn't the type to allow others to take care of her when she's able to do so herself."

Sasuke half-smiles to himself as Mebuki ushers him to a sofa.

"What'll you have to drink?" she asks breezily.

"Um…"

"I'll put on some tea," she decides without waiting for him to answer. "Mikoto-chan wouldn't want you drinking sake."

And then Sasuke is left in the Haruno family den. He is uncomfortable, out of his element, and this isn't how he'd planned to spend his evening, but now that he's here, he's glad he came. He'd never met Sakura's parents before – at least, not that he could remember and certainly hadn't had a conversation with either of them. That wasn't very good teammate behavior.

Still, he is surprised by her mother. They don't look alike at all except for the eyes; Mebuki is tall and sharp and reedy and her looks are severe, while Sakura is smaller and more feminine-looking, soft and demure. Whenever Sasuke would picture her mother, he always envisioned an older version of Sakura: same candy pink hair, same gentle smile.

Their personalities are somewhat similar, though. Sakura is very, very kind and underneath Mebuki's hard exterior, so is she. They are both talkative and a bit on the bossy side. He hopes that Sakura inherited her cooking abilities from her mother, because Sakura's cooking is delicious.

Not that he'd ever tell _her_ that.

The Haruno house is much, much smaller than the one he was raised in, but it feels like a home. Sasuke knows his mother tried, but not even her warmth was much of a match for the Uchiha austerity that made where he lived a manor, and where Sakura lived a home. It's full of well-worn furniture and there are pictures on the wall, pictures of a small family in various stages of life. Sasuke sees a gap-toothed Sakura smiling shyly at the camera, a jumprope in her hand; he sees an infant Sakura with eyes as startlingly green as they are now; he sees Sakura in her medic uniform, her shy little grin replaced by one of sheer confidence and poise, her beauty almost alarming in the flash of the film.

There is the whistle of the tea kettle on the stove in the kitchen, and Sasuke realizes for the first time how hungry he is. Dinner sounds pretty good right about now, but it's impossible for him to ignore the fact that he might not be the Haruno family's favorite person right now.

If Sakura ever told them about…well, _everything_ that happened between them before the war…

Sasuke winces. He'd nearly allowed himself to get taken in by the prospect of a family dinner, and he hadn't bothered to consider that perhaps his presence might not be especially welcome. Yes, Mebuki had manhandled him into coming, but there is another member of Sakura's family, one of who might not be so _simpatico_ with the idea of spending a meal with a man who, one year ago, would have cheerfully torn out his daughter's throat…

_Her father._

And speak of the devil…

"Kizashi!" Mebuki yells. "Get in here, you'll catch a cold if you stay out there with those stupid flowers another minute, don't you see the rainclouds? Clean yourself up, we've got company!"

_Sounds like Sakura yelling at Naruto,_ Sasuke thinks, smirking, but then he realizes that Kizashi is Sakura's father, and he's coming inside.

_Wish I'd brought my sword…_

"Oh, is Sakura-chan here?" calls another voice, this one very deep and very masculine, and Sasuke hears footsteps approach the back door.

"No, not Sakura. Damn it, darling, you're getting dirt all over my clean kitchen floor…go wash up, you're going to embarrass me. And do something with your hair!"

Sasuke hears Haruno Kizashi coming closer and stands, halfway because it's the polite thing to do and halfway because he wants to have a running start, in case Kizashi has an inkling of the things that have taken place between himself and Sakura, and wants to exact some painful paternal revenge. He certainly wouldn't blame him; Sasuke wishes he could set himself on fire a thousand times over for doing the things he'd done to Sakura in the past.

Then there is a huge looming shadow in the den, and Sasuke sees Sakura's father for the first time.

He is a massive man, taller even than Sasuke, which unnerves him. His shoulders are broader, too, chest wider, muscles straining against his haori. His hair is wild, reddish-pink in color and shaped weirdly like a cherry blossom. Again, he is surprised at the lack of similarity between parent and child; Sakura is about as tall and thick as one of her father's thighs.

"This is Uchiha Sasuke," Mebuki introduces from the doorway, an apron around her waist and a wooden spoon in her hand, clearly in the middle of cooking. "Sasuke, this filthy lump is my husband Kizashi."

"Uchiha Sasuke, huh?" asks Kizashi, and his eyes narrow as he scans Sasuke up and down. More staring, more examination, more scrutiny. Sasuke stiffens and bows his head; it is a conciliatory move. He isn't known for his manners or respectfulness, but after all he'd done…after taking this man's daughter by the throat with all the intention in the world of spilling her blood…

And then Kizashi's rough-looking face splits into a wide, genial smile and he grabs Sasuke's hand in a vigorous, friendly shake.

"Damn good to meet you, boy," he says brightly.

Sasuke just stares. Either Sakura has never told her parents all that transpired between them…

…or her relentless friendliness is an inherited trait.

* * *

**note..** trying something a little different, just a four-part story this time instead of these mammoth ones that take over my life. but one aspect of this sasusaku universe that i think gets really neglected is the potential dynamic between sakura's parents and sasuke, so here's my take on it. as always, let me know if you liked it and if you didn't like it go about your merry way.

xoxo daisy :)


	2. Chapter 2

"We've been wanting to meet you for years, kid," says Kizashi over dinner, looking positively delighted with Sasuke's company. "We've asked Sakura a hundred times to bring you by, but she kept insisting that you wouldn't be interested."

Sasuke thinks to himself, with no small amount of shame, that Sakura had been right all along. It's one of the more uncomfortable meals he's ever had, even if he's learning a fair amount about his mother from two unexpected sources. He can't help but feel like he doesn't deserve to be there. Surely they know how he's treated their daughter in the past.

"She seemed to think that it might make you…uncomfortable," Mebuki chimes in. "Though why you'd be uncomfortable in our house, I can't even begin to fathom. Really, that girl."

"She's a good teammate," Sasuke offers stiffly, a gross underrepresentation of Haruno Sakura and her role in his life. Still he knows it's rude to eat in total silence when the Harunos are being such gracious (if weirdly friendly) hosts. The noodles are good, spicy without making his eyes water.

"She's hardly ever home," Kizashi sighs wistfully, and Sasuke, always good at reading people, recognizes an unrestrained longing from her father. He more than understands; even if he's never said it aloud, to _anybody,_ he knows what it's like to miss Sakura. Anyone with eyes can see that she's her father's world.

"She's got an apartment near Hokage Tower," Mebuki explains to Sasuke. "When she started apprenticing under Tsunade-sama, we barely ever saw her here anyway. Now, with all her shifts at the hospital and all those extra missions, she figured it was easier on everyone to get her own place, nearer to all the action."

"And she…lives alone?" Sasuke asks. He doesn't like having to inquire about something like that, something he should already be aware of, but the Harunos have already seen the extent of his ignorance.

Kizashi sighs again, stirring his noodles. "Yeah. She makes decent money and a growing girl needs her own space."

Sasuke senses that these are Sakura's words, not her father's.

"Ino-chan stays with her sometimes," Mebuki continues with a sip of tea. "When things get hard."

_Hard?_ Sasuke thinks to himself, not meeting anybody's eyes. _What's all that about?_

Then Mebuki changes the subject; maybe, like her daughter, she has an ultrasensitivity to the feelings of those around her, and she's picked up on his discomfort. Or she just has no clue.

"So how do you like being back in Konoha, Sasuke-kun?" she asks with an indulgent smile.

He's taken aback by the innocuous question. She's asking him like he was on vacation somewhere, like he moved away for a few years and came back when he could afford it. He has to wonder exactly _what_ Sakura's told her family all these years about him, because the way they're acting, it's as if he's still the Golden Boy everyone had known him to be in the Academy.

"It's…nice," he says hesitantly, his voice betraying nothing. "Busy," he adds.

"Won't find a village anywhere nicer than Konoha!" Kizashi booms with a wide grin. "All you kids leave on your missions and whatnot, wanting to see the world, but you all find your way back here eventually."

"It's a _wonderful_ place to raise a family," Mebuki agrees. "What about you, Sasuke-kun? Thinking of starting a family?"

He chokes a little on a sip of tea. "Uh…"

"What're you even saying, Mebuki? The boy's not even eighteen yet!"

"It's not _unheard of_ to start a family at such a young age," Mebuki reminds her husband coolly. "Especially for the clan leaders."

"I'd like a family," Sasuke admits quietly, almost shamefully, like he knows he doesn't deserve to have one. "One day. Not yet."

"'Course not!" thunders Kizashi in approval, clapping him soundly on the back and nearly knocking the wind from his lungs. "You'll want to stretch your legs a bit. Sow your wild oats, so to speak. There's no rush! I know our Sakura-chan wants a family someday, but not till later on in life. Smart girl."

Sasuke hadn't known that. He's always assumed that Sakura was the kind of girl who wanted to get married, immediately, and make babies, immediately. He's embarrassed at his chronic lack of awareness, and also a bit surprised that they share the same philosophy on family.

If he's being totally honest with himself, he'd always entertained the idea of a family _with_ Sakura. The idea had come to him back when they were first made teammates; she was a very kind, very pretty girl and he cared about her. She loved him back then, and was the only girl who'd ever really tried to get to know him. Even before he'd left for Orochimaru, he'd had the thought of a future with her on his mind.

Those feelings haven't faded, but Sasuke knows things are very, very different now. He knows that he was careless with Sakura's heart. He knows that he expected too much from her: that a girl like her, smart, charming, lovely and sweet, should wait for an asshole like him without him so much as asking her to do so. He knows that he crossed a line with her that can't be uncrossed, and that when he lifted his hand to attack, he severed any semblance of opportunity the two of them might have had to make good on their romantic potential.

Still, even knowing he doesn't deserve Sakura, he can't totally suppress the idea of being with her someday. She's funny and warm and being around her makes the ache in his stomach dull a little. He tortures himself with what he can't have – what he _could_ have had, if he hadn't gone so very wrong.

If the Harunos knew his fucked-up thought processes, they'd throw him right out on his ass.

"She's in no hurry, that's for sure," Mebuki says. "Flits around from boyfriend to boyfriend, never getting serious with one or another…"

Sasuke freezes for a moment, and hopes his movements aren't painfully evident. The way Mebuki says 'boyfriend' so casually grates on his nerves, and here is _another_ fact about Sakura he simply never knew.

She's been dating. She hasn't told him.

_Why would she,_ he thinks sourly, glaring at his empty teacup and tuning out Mebuki and Kizashi's chatter. _Why SHOULD she. It's not like I have anything to do with that. It's not like I ever asked._

He's very, very disturbed at the idea of Sakura seeing other men, and he can't stop himself from wondering who. Certainly not Naruto, he knows that much. Inuzuka, though, has never been shy about his affections for her. She's been spending a fair amount of time with Nara, too, something Sasuke never really paid much attention to until right now. Even Shiranui, that asshole with the needle in his mouth…

His mood's tanking and there's nothing he can do to stop it. He's angry at Sakura even though he knows he's got no right to be. There's a horrible feeling in his chest right now, the same thing he'd feel when his father complimented Itachi, when Naruto smashed a bigger hole in a water tower…

Abruptly, the pleasant dinner is ruined for him. Without caring one speck that he's being rude, he stands up abruptly from the table.

"I have to go," he says shortly. "Thank you for the meal."

Mebuki and Kizashi look taken aback at his sudden change in demeanor, but after a quick look to each other, they stand as well to see him to the door.

"It was good to finally meet you, Sasuke," Kizashi tells him once they've walked him out. He extends a hand and Sasuke hesitates, then shakes it.

"Don't be a stranger now," Mebuki tells him warmly, with a fond smile on her face that softens her features and makes her look more like Sakura than he'd thought. "You hear? Come on by, you need a decent meal every now and again!"

"Thank you," he says with a bow, too irritated with what he's learned to properly appreciate the kindness in her offer. "Goodbye."

Then he stalks away down the darkening streets, his hands shoved into his pockets and his mood plummeting. He'd gone to the Harunos in the first place for information on his mother; what he'd walked away with was more dirt on Sakura than he'd ever wanted to hear.

* * *

"Geez, Sasuke-kun, you're going a lot harder than usual today!" Sakura remarks, and he is bitterly satisfied to see that she's a bit breathless. Without giving her any time to recover, he pulls his fist back and aims for her face. She ducks, masterfully evasive as always, and brings her leg around in a graceful kick that would crush his skull if she lands it. "Something wrong?"

"No," he says shortly, throwing a kunai at her just to tire her out.

She catches it between two fingers and throws it back, restoring some distance between them. "You sure? You're wailing on me like you wail on Naruto when he wakes you up too early."

Sasuke isn't proud of his thought processes right now, but he's spitefully glad that Sakura is a kunoichi. It's an excuse to beat on her the way he never could if she wasn't fully capable of defending herself. He's never been good with words and even if he tried to confess to her how he was feeling, what was on his mind and why he was so angry, he knows it would sound insane to her ears anyway. Instead, he channels his frustration into their spar, and takes a primitive delight in punishing her.

It's when he takes it up a notch and draws his sword, something he only ever does if they're training with weapons and definitely _not_ in a friendly spar, that she gets angry.

"Put that away," she snaps, snatching his wrist in a small but punishing grip when he aims for her throat. "What the hell are you doing, what's your problem? This is a _spar,_ you're treating it like a…"

"An enemy won't give you a _break,_" Sasuke shoots back nastily, knowing it will grate on her nerves to hear him lecture her with things she already knows. "Pay attention."

He can tell by the flash of hurt in her eyes that he's affecting her, and then her lip curls into a snarl and she jumps back away from him, chest heaving with exhaustion and anger.

"Are you _really_ scolding me like I'm some snot-nosed Academy student?" she demands, blowing her bangs out of her eyes so she can glare at him properly. "This is _not_ a real battle, this was _supposed_ to be a training spar. If I'd known you were gonna go crazy on me, I'd…"

Sasuke doesn't bother to hear the rest. Instead he sheathes his sword in a flourish and turns his back on her, too frustrated to look at her another minute. Without so much as another word, he flashsteps out of the training grounds, leaving a pissed, confused Sakura wondering what the hell had happened behind him.

* * *

Sakura is so mad she can barely see straight. She storms down the street trying to puzzle out her teammate's uncalled-for nastiness, but can't. Unless Naruto pissed him off earlier this morning and he's taking out his residual vengeance on her…

Her footsteps lead her back to her parents' house. How many times have they been there to corral her temper, listen to her stupid, insignificant problems and offer advice?

_At least once more,_ she thinks bitterly, opening the door and calling out, "Mom? Dad!"

Predictably, her parents come running, and when she sees how happy they are to see her, she's ashamed of herself for not visiting as often as she should. She knows they understand, knows they know she's needed and important and busy, but the pang of guilt is painful nonetheless. Being a good daughter is one of the many sacrifices she's had to make in her kunoichi career.

"Sakura-chan!" Her father has the biggest smile in the world painted on his face as he scoops her up into a hug that makes her squeal. What would any of her world-class enemies think of her if they saw her like this?

"Hi, Dad!" she says happily when he sets her back down, and her mother rushes in to start fussing and nagging and coddling.

"You're losing weight," Mebuki says sharply, hawkish eyes raking over her daughter looking for something to fret over. "Isn't she, darling? Too skinny. You've been working yourself too hard these days, haven't you? Don't think I haven't noticed. Come in, hurry up, young lady. We're just about to have some dinner. Something's on your mind, I can already tell by the look in your eyes. Come on, you two, no sense lurking in doorways."

Sakura rolls her eyes at her mother's antics and follows her parents inside. The house smells delightful; she wishes she could cook like Mebuki, but knows that her painfully bland, overly nutritious meals are at best, an acquired taste, and at worst, _inedible._

"Don't listen to your mother," Kizashi says in his booming voice as they take a seat around the dinner table together. "You look pretty as a flower. Most beautiful girl in the village."

"Don't exaggerate," Sakura says with a fiercely pleased blush. She's starting to forget her anger, the frustration that led her to her parents' doorstep in the first place.

Almost.

"Now when have you known your old man to _exaggerate?_"

"Enough, Kizashi," Mebuki barks, loading her daughter's plate with vegetables. "She came over here for a reason, quit wasting her time telling her how pretty she is. She comes from a long line of incredibly beautiful women and I'm sure she knows that every time she looks in a mirror. Now what's on your mind, Sakura? You look upset."

Sakura sighs and stabs her chopsticks glumly in her pasta. "Oh. I had a fight today, with Sasuke-kun."

"A fight?" Mebuki prompts. "What about?"

"That's just it, I have no idea. We were sparring like usual, but he was going way harder than normal and when I asked him about it, he freaked out. I have no clue why he acted like that but he left before I could beat it out of him."

"He _did_ leave in quite a hurry yesterday," Kizashi says thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "Maybe he's…"

"Wait, wait, wait a second. What do you mean, he left yesterday? Sasuke-kun was _here?_"

"Didn't he mention it? Your mom invited him for dinner. He came over and we had a nice conversation. He's a good boy, that kid."

"And he looks so much like Mikoto-chan," Mebuki sighs with a smile that makes Sakura's jaw _drop._ "He's got his father's attitude, of course, but all Uchiha men are the same like that. Very polite. Except for leaving so abruptly, but…"

Sakura is stunned. Sasuke, arrogant, aloof, detached Uchiha Sasuke, had had dinner with her _parents_ last night. She tries but cannot for the life of her imagine him sitting here, at this homey little dinner table, exchanging pleasantries with her mother and father. But the way they're talking about him, it's the most normal thing in the world.

"Well don't look so surprised!" Mebuki says. "You've been bringing Naruto round for years. And Sai as well. Don't you think it's high time we met Sasuke as well?"

"I always thought he'd hate a family meal so I never bothered to invite him," Sakura murmurs. "Not that it matters!" she adds hastily, remembering how angry she is with him. "Because he's still an asshole."

She pierces a piece of broccoli with savage force and brings it to her lips, nearly missing her father's look of realization, but not quite.

"What?" she asks suspiciously; Kizashi looks like he's figured something out and doesn't want to tell.

"Nothing, nothing," he says hastily. "Just…remembering what we talked about before he left, I…hmm. Nothing, princess. Best to just forget about the whole thing, I'm sure he just had a lot on his mind today. Men get like that, you know."

Sakura sighs, realizing her father's right. As if she'd ever been able to understand anything Uchiha Sasuke did before this, anyway. Most likely he was peeved at Naruto and taking it out on her.

"I'll get over it," she mutters. _Always do. _

She decides to chalk Sasuke-kun's strange behavior up to him being, well, Sasuke-kun. Who knows why he does the things he does, and she'd be lying if she said this wasn't the first time he's ever thrown something of a tantrum seemingly unprovoked. Most likely, he'll never speak of this again, so there's no sense in fretting anymore about it.

* * *

When Sakura-chan leaves, she is in considerably better spirits than she was when she showed up. Dinner was nice and she played a few rounds of cards with him before she left. He watches her go with a wave, his precious little girl, and then slides his arm around his wife's waist as they sit together on the back porch. It's a nice night. Fireflies and a warm balmy breeze and darkness.

"So what's the big secret?" Mebuki asks her husband.

Kizashi glances down at her and smiles. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Why do you think Sasuke left in such a hurry? And why was he mad at Sakura today? I know you have an idea, I saw that look in your eyes at dinner."

"You miss nothing, wife."

"Well?"

"Don't tell me you don't know. All of those brains of yours and you can't pick out the obvious?"

"Kizashi…"

"Think. What were we discussing _right_ before Sasuke's abrupt departure?"

Mebuki frowns in concentration, trying to recall the conversation piece that led to Sasuke's quick exit. She rewinds the previous evening in her head.

"…something about Sakura's boyfriends." Then her eyes go wide. "You don't think…"

"I think the boy was _jealous,_" Kizashi says smugly, content that for once, he's ahead of the curve and it's his brilliant wife left to play catch up. "Like all Uchiha men, he's hopeless in the romantic department and likely had no clue Sakura-chan is dating, and…"

They are interrupted by a knocking at the front door. Confused, Kizashi stands up, murmuring, "Maybe Sakura-chan forgot something, I'll go get it."

When he pads through the house to answer the door, though, it's not his pretty little girl on the front stoop. It's the very subject of their conversation, Uchiha Sasuke, nearly as tall as Kizashi himself and looking strangely awkward.

"Sasuke!" he says in surprise. "What can I do for you?"

Sasuke shifts from one foot to the next, his eyes downcast almost nervously. Kizashi wonders if any human being on the planet has witnessed this. Famous Uchiha Sasuke, world-renowned for his lethal abilities and with nearly peerless shinobi skills, shuffling awkwardly like a kindergartener caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Before he can be properly amused by this rare sight, Sasuke speaks.

"…I might've…I don't know. Pissed off your daughter." Then he frowns and corrects himself. "I mean…I made Sakura mad today. And…sorry to come so late, I just…was wondering how I might…um, fix that."

Kizashi blinks, absolutely stunned for a good three seconds, then smiles wide and opens the door even wider.

"Come on in, kid," he says cheerfully. "Lots to talk about, you and I."

* * *

**note..** thanks everybody for the massive support for chapter 1, i appreciate it :) let me know if you liked chapter 2. if not, go about your evening.

peace be with you, buttercups.

xoxo daisy :)


	3. Chapter 3

To say he feels uncomfortable is pretty much the understatement of the century.

With a sword in his hand, there is no enemy he can't slay. With his Sharingan, there is no jutsu that can't be copied, countered, and mastered in the spur of a moment. He is an archetype of what a shinobi should be: powerful, fearless, cool, collected, nearly invincible.

…but for some reason, and this had been true since they were children, none of that matters when dealing with Haruno Sakura.

Sasuke can freely admit that he doesn't understand her. On a certain level, he can; he knows she is fundamentally kind, no doubt the result of a happy family upbringing and a well-stocked reservoir of supportive friends. He knows she cares deeply about those around her, and would do anything in her power to protect them. But beyond that, he has no idea what drives her to do the things she does on a daily basis, and there is no jutsu for that: figuring a girl out.

Which leads him back to her parents' doorstep that evening, entirely out of his element and with no excuse.

Kizashi and Mebuki are clearly surprised to see him – no doubt his abrupt exit the night before is to blame – but he can't help but note that they seemed pleased that he is there. That is new to him, because while he'd won back the trust and respect of many of his shinobi and kunoichi peers, there are still hundreds of older-generation Konoha citizens who look upon him with suspicion. That is something he'd been prepared to deal with when he came back, but like their daughter, the Harunos confound him.

Admitting he needs help with Sakura is humiliating for a young man of his caliber, but even he can see that things can't continue on the way the were where she is concerned. They are friendly some of the time and other times, they fight like cats and dogs; he cares deeply for her but knows next to nothing about her, and he suspects the same is true for her; he'd lay his life down for her without blinking an eye but doesn't even know where she lives. There is tension mounting between them that is bound to snap any day, and even detached, aloof Sasuke knows that something has to be done to cool the electricity.

"Come on in, kid," says Kizashi with a warm smile, stepping aside to let Sasuke in. "We're having tea on the back porch."

"I'll get you some," Mebuki volunteers with a smile of her own. "Oolong okay? I know Sakura says you don't like sugar."

Surprised that she'd remember something as inconsequential as how he took his tea, Sasuke murmurs, "Right. Thanks."

His mind is made up. He is here. The only way he can fix things up with Sakura and win her friendship for real is to learn everything he can about her, and her parents are a veritable sieve of information. He needs to take a more active interest in her likes and dislikes, her habits and hobbies, the things that she values; she hasn't given up on him while he was running amok destroying himself for the last few years. The least he can do in return is evoke a little effort.

Kizashi leads him through the house and onto the back porch. It is small, the wood deck a little old and worse for wear. Immediately he surmises that they need a new coat of white paint on the banister, then he quietly marvels at what he'd bother to notice in the first place: it isn't a typical use of his gifted eyesight, that is for sure.

Still, it is a nice night. At Kizashi's invitation, he sits down on the stoop next to the old man and the pair of them wait for Mebuki to return with his tea in silence. Sasuke feels Kizashi's eyes boring into him but he pretends not to notice, instead focusing on why he is here in the first place to insulate himself against the growing discomfort.

"Here you go, sweetheart," says Mebuki a few minutes later, joining the two men out on the back porch with a piping hot cup of tea in her hands. Sasuke takes it from her with a nod of thanks and sits staring at the simmering liquid, the warmth soaking into his fingers and the spicy smell swimming in his nose. If this is how Sakura spent her nights as a child, no wonder she'd been so incomprehensibly happy. He can get to used to this.

"All right, kid," says Kizashi. "So. You're here because you pissed off our girl."

Bristling a little at his phrasing, Sasuke mutters, "I guess."

"Well it wouldn't be the first time."

His eyes narrow. They didn't need to remind him like that, did they?

"She's got a temper on her, that's for sure," Mebuki says dryly. "That's one thing to know about Haruno women, Sasuke, they'll love you like no other but they've got _vicious_ tempers. But judging by the smirk on your face, you know that already."

Sasuke doesn't even realize he is smirking till she points it out to him. Quickly he hides his mouth by taking a sip of too-hot tea, spicy and exactly to his taste.

"You make her sound like a volcano, Mebuki-chan, our girl's not all that bad. So she gets a little hot every now and then."

Kizashi's poor wording does little more than remind Sasuke of the reason why he'd left yesterday in such a hurry. For some reason, the back of his neck heats up and he feels his cheeks warm.

"Well, Sasuke," says Mebuki, sitting down on Sasuke's other side, "why don't you tell us what happened."

"We were…sparring," he says slowly, measuring his words. "I said some things to her, she got upset. I was angry."

"At her?"

"Aa."

"Why?"

He hesitates. He isn't sure how to word the real reason, because he can't quite understand it himself, and Sasuke is a firm believer that one shouldn't speak unless they knew precisely what they are talking about. The fireflies that had once been enchanting in the yard are now nothing more than white noise that distract him from his thoughts, and he feels uncomfortably hot all of a sudden, recalling his anger from the day before.

"Does this have anything to do with why you left so suddenly yesterday?" Mebuki asks gently, her tone solicitous and so _Sakura_ that Sasuke finds himself answering.

"I didn't realize she is dating," he confesses, and his stomach tightens at the admission. He sets down his teacup, half-empty on the step beneath him and folds his arms.

He keeps his eyes forward, watching a squirrel skirt its way up the cherry tree in the yard, but he senses Mebuki and Kizashi exchange a look between them. Sakura's mother speaks again.

"And it made you angry? Not knowing that?"

"…there's a lot I don't know about her."

There it is, as much of the truth as he can figure out without their assistance. He owes Sakura a lot for her continued loyalty and steady offer of friendship. How can they cultivate anything solid if she is still a stranger to him?

"Well, we happen to know Sakura pretty well," says Kizashi jovially, draping a heavy arm around Sasuke's shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the way he tenses up at the unexpected gesture. "You know, since she's our baby and all. So, you wanna know things about her? Ask away. We got all night."

Sasuke hesitates, then asks, "What's her favorite color?"

"Oh come on," Mebuki scoffs. "That's not really what you want to know."

"Blue," Kizashi volunteers mildly. "She likes blue."

"You didn't come here for superficial factoids about our daughter," Mebuki says firmly. "I'd say you know a lot more than you think about the silly, shallow little things like that. And you weren't upset yesterday because you don't know Sakura's favorite color, or her favorite food."

"Mebuki…"

"Quiet, dear, let's not beat around the bush. Sasuke you were upset because Sakura's seeing other boys, right? And you were jealous."

Jealous.

_Jealous._

The word feels heavy and sickening as he lets it soak into his subconscious. He's been a fundamentally jealous person ever since he can remember – envious of his older brother in his childhood, envious of Naruto's ninja progress – but he's always managed to conceal that underneath some higher purpose.

But this, it feels like that same envy, only with the edges blurred. It isn't exactly the same, because nothing about Sakura fits into the mold he'd mandated for everyone else. She's broken all of his rules.

Is that what is so annoying about her? That he can't nail her down?

Without thinking, he starts talking.

"She says she loved me before I left," he murmurs, barely aware that her parents were even sitting next to him, let alone listening. "And I…held onto that. While I is…away. When I came back, she is different than I remembered. In a good way. But she never mentioned what she says that night, and she never told me she is dating."

"Did you ask?" Mebuki wants to know.

"No." _I didn't think I had to._

"Is it that you thought she might wait for you?" It is Kizashi who speaks this time, and his voice is soft.

Sasuke clenches his jaw so hard it is beginning to hurt. What is the sense in denying it? He is being petty, he knows, but that doesn't make this anymore palatable. It almost feels like a virus, the way his stomach churns and his palms sweat at the prospect of Sakura being with somebody, anybody, besides him. She'd said she loved him, hadn't she? Did that mean nothing?

"Or…" Kizashi continues, "that you _wanted_ her to?"

"She was never mine," Sasuke replies stiffly, almost arrogantly, a pathetic attempt to save face. "Her choices are her own. I knew what I was giving up when I left. I knew there'd be consequences."

A few moments pass in silence while Sasuke schools his features back into an expression of practiced detachment. He thoroughly resents what is coming out here: secrets he didn't even realize he'd been keeping. The subject of Sakura had been one that he'd always sort of…_procrastinated._ Yes, he knows that there is something about her that set her apart from everyone else, but it is something he always assumed he would have time to figure out later, when things calmed down in his life and started making sense again.

It is only now, after having two _very_ unexpected conversations with two _very_ unlikely people, that he is beginning to understand all the cloudiness and fog in his heart, what it all means. A friend did not get _jealous_ at the idea of another friend going on a date, but here he is. And it is because 'friend' no longer describes Haruno Sakura…at least, not entirely. There is more there, more to her, and putting this off for as long as he had ended up costing him.

"They're not serious," Mebuki informs him, jerking him back to reality.

"Hn?"

"The dates she goes on with other boys. She isn't serious about any of them. At least not yet."

He says nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"She wouldn't want me telling you this, of course, but Sakura's merely…exploring her options. The war was especially hard on her, not to mention everything that happened before. Like everybody else, she's taking happiness however she can find it, whether it be early morning sparring with her teammates or letting a nice boy take her to a nice restaurant every now and again."

Sasuke can't help but picture it in his head. Sakura, tired after a long day of saving the entire village, smiling brightly at Inuzuka over dango, or that _asshole_ Shiranui on a walk by the river. The churning in his stomach worsens, but Mebuki's testimony, that Sakura isn't seriously invested in any of the men she is dating, ignites something inside him that feels dangerously, scarily close to hope.

Maybe all is not lost.

"And do you know why Sakura sees other men?" Mebuki asks, placing a comforting hand on Sasuke's shoulder. "Because she doesn't know yet how special she is to you, that's one reason, of course. And the other…is they _ask._"

Sasuke blinks and looks over at her, confused. Mebuki is smiling, and the softness in her expression reminds him of Sakura in a way her overall appearance did not.

"Sakura was head over heels for you when she was a little girl," she explains. "And any small scrap of attention you threw her way was enough for her…but she's a woman now. She's grown and she's matured, and she won't settle these days for anything less than a man who will _try._ Because Sasuke-kun, she is _worth_ the effort."

He hesitates, then blurts out what he's been thinking ever since Mebuki invited him over to dinner the night before. "Did she tell you what happened between us?"

The Harunos glance at each other but say nothing, which Sasuke takes as his cue to continue.

"You wouldn't be talking to me like this," he says darkly, "inviting me inside, giving me _advice_ if you knew what I'd done to her."

"Sakura-chan hasn't told us everything, of course," Kizashi replies evenly. "She isn't the open book these days that she used to be, but we know the gist of it."

"Really." Sasuke scoffs a humorless laugh and is on his feet, upending his half-empty cup of tea in the process. "Then you know how she begged me to stay here when we were 13, and I knocked her out and left anyway."

"…"

"And when she tried to bring me back years later, I turned my sword on her."

"…"

"And when that didn't work, when she tried to kill me so I wouldn't hurt anyone else, I used Chidori…I would've killed her if Kakashi hadn't stopped me. I _wanted_ to. At that moment there was nothing else in the world I wanted more than her _dead._ And you two just sit there and smile and try and help me out like none of that even _happened?_ Do you have that little regard for your daughter, to try and clear the way for a _murderer_ to get closer to her?"

He must have crossed the line, because in the next moment, Kizashi is on his feet, too. In his face there is none of the warmth and good humor he's possessed all along; there is an air of menace about him in the way his eyes narrow, his lips curl back into a sneer. He is taller than Sasuke, a decent feat, and despite the fact that Sasuke knows him to be no higher than genin rank, he suddenly suspects that the Haruno patriarch is more than capable of killing.

"If you think that we've been helping you to try and hurt her," Kizashi snarls, "then you're out of your mind."

Sasuke hesitates, only belatedly realizing that his hand has fallen to the hilt of his sword purely on reflex.

"Everything I do in this world is for my daughter," Kizashi goes on, advancing on Sasuke predatorily, forcing him to take a step backwards off the porch and into the backyard. "She's the most important person on the face of the earth to my wife and me, and there is nothing we wouldn't do to bring her happiness. And if I thought for one _millisecond_ that she'd be happiest if I shoved a kunai down your throat, then I would do it. I'm a father before anything else, _Sasuke-kun._"

There is a pregnant pause and Sasuke wonders what his next move should be. Kizashi looks almost ready to kill him, and Mebuki, standing on the porch above them with her arms folded, doesn't look any more pleased with him than Kizashi did if her cold-eyed glare is any indication. Apparently he's gone too far in insinuating that the Harunos don't care about Sakura, but what other explanation is there? What other reason can they have for knowing his sordid history with Sakura and doing anything but chasing him away with pitchforks?

"And don't think there haven't been times in the past when I watched my daughter cry, that I haven't thought about ending your miserable life," Kizashi continues, still moving towards him and forcing him into a retreat. "And she'd hate me to tell you this, but…"

Suddenly he stops, and the anger is gone from his eyes. A smile, almost smug, twists his lips and restores some of the good nature Sasuke has come to associate with him.

"You're the only boy she's decided is worth her tears," he finishes.

Sasuke finally understands what they were trying to tell him. The other boys Sakura is dating, she hasn't cried over them. She hasn't devoted time and energy to them the way she has to him. And just because she isn't throwing herself at him anymore these days, just because she chooses to smile kindly and sincerely at him without any of the starry eyes or expectation, doesn't mean that her feelings for him have waned. It just means that she's finally realized what he should have known years ago:

That Haruno Sakura is the kind of girl you have to try for.

He can't continue like this, with falling back into old habits now that he is home. He can't rely on their old dynamic anymore because time has changed them; if he doesn't give Sakura the proper acknowledgment, then she will find it somewhere else. Girls like Sakura deserve more than whatever pitiful little he'd deigned to give her in the past. If he wanted her, something that is becoming startlingly more obvious with every passing second, he would have to make the effort.

"There will be expectations now," Kizashi says, folding his arms and adopting a stern expression that reminds him fiercely of his own father, Fugaku. "As for what happened in the past, that's what it is: past. And it's between the two of you. If Sakura-chan forgives you for what happened, then you'll hear no more on the subject from us."

"Mikoto-chan would never let me hear the end of it if I tried to keep you two apart," Mebuki chimes in, joining the men in the yard at last with a smirk on her thin lips. "So think of this as a clean slate. And try not to screw it up this time, honey. Your mother would never forgive you."

Sasuke is at a total loss for words. They are smiling at him again, all understanding and supportive. It is almost like they want this to work, the twisted, backwards notion of Sasuke-and-Sakura. He wonders what it is they see in him to have earned that kind of encouragement…or what Sakura must have told them about him.

Maybe, he realizes, it really is just because she's chosen him that makes him worth it. Even if he'll never deserve her.

"I can't promise I won't hurt her again," he mumbles. "I can't promise that so I won't. But I can promise that I'll…that I'll always _try._"

It is the best he can do. He has no experience in this and the only couple he'd had any real contact with – his parents – have been dead for ten years, and he doubts he and Sakura have much in common with Fugaku and Mikoto. With little to base this on, he is flying blind, and his nature is such that he is bound to do something that might hurt Sakura somewhere down the road. The Sharingan can't lend him insight on how to keep a woman happy, for as much as he wishes it would.

But trying…he can do that, at least. He has to. Sakura deserves that much from him.

His answer, pitiful to his own ears, seems to be exactly what the Harunos want to hear. Mebuki beams up at him and says, "Okay, then. You come by tomorrow night for dinner, then, all right? And bring Sakura."

Sasuke almost smirks at how backwards that is, but instead he offers something else, words he'd given their daughter years and years ago. Nowhere near enough, but as sincere as he can make them.

"Thank you."


End file.
